


eyes like sinking ships

by invertedpyramids



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Not Actually Unrequited Love, sooyoung and jinsol are both obstinate idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29466072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedpyramids/pseuds/invertedpyramids
Summary: I want you, Sooyoung thinks.I want to know who you are.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64
Collections: backup dancers ficmix exchange





	eyes like sinking ships

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luxeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxeme/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by Anonymous. Log in to view. 



> for car, the hyolyn to my dasom, who wrote slow motion double vision in rose blush so brilliantly that it opened my third eye to the possibilities of canon compliant yvesoul. title taken from tswift's gold rush as well.
> 
> this fic sticks very closely to smdvirb so it's recommended (but not necessary) to read it first!

Jinsol’s knitting again. Sooyoung hears the telltale clickety clack of the needles as soon as she pushes open the door, bone-weary and red-cheeked, voice hoarse from another gruelling session at vocal practice.

“Oh, you’re home,” says Yeojin from the kitchen, tempered with the sound of sizzling meat on the grill. And Sooyoung’s stomach growls, reminding her she’s spent as long without food as she has been training.

The members - the few who aren’t out anyway - turn to her, wide smiles on their faces, their reliable _unnie_ , sturdy oak tree of an acting leader, finally home a little past midnight on a Wednesday.

“How was training?” Chaewon asks. Her yellow tapestry (a scarf, Chaewon insists) sits on the table, but there’s still that constant clicking of needles, and Sooyoung takes a deep breath and bites down on her lip as she keeps her gaze placid, her smile fixed.

“Great. The CEO gave me a call while I was in the car.”

The sizzling stops. Yeojin peers out into the living room, iron-cast pan still in her hand, and even Hyunjin, who’s been busy fixing the smoking washing machine, strolls out and places the spanner on the side table.

Jinsol, too, lowers her needles.

“There’s this new K-pop channel that wants to interview us, and the CEO told me to bring one other person. It’s going to be a girl group special.”

She knows how achingly all these girls want it. With twelve members and limited screen time, attention and a lasting career is something that’s always on everyone’s minds. She watches Jinsol’s hands smooth her knitting over, picking at a tangled thread that only she can see.

“And?” asks Hyejoo. Her voice is flat, but there’s a challenging note in it. 

“Come on!” demands Yeojin, and Sooyoung lets a grin break out on her face.

“Kim Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin beams. Jinsol picks her new project back up, barely sparing Sooyoung a second glance, and annoyance bubbles up in her chest like thick sludge.

“Sorry, Jung Jinsol,” she says, far too sweet. “In another life, maybe.”

Jinsol rolls her eyes. Fixes her attention elsewhere - on Chaewon, on Hyunjin, and Sooyoung tightens her jaw. 

She stalks off to the kitchen, ignoring Hyejoo’s gaze. Careful, measured, knowing.

Her mother calls a little over five, just after she’s woken up, and right before Sooyoung’s ready to go to bed.

“Grandma just had her checkup yesterday,” her mother is saying. “Her eyesight is worsening, but she loves watching you on her phone. She asked when you’ll be on TV so she won’t have to squint at her screen anymore.”

It’s well-meaning - teasing, even - but Sooyoung feels the words like an albatross on her neck, the certain knowledge of how much her family’s given up, how much _she’s_ given up to be here, in this house, in this company, on this stage.

And she can hear, in the light lilt of her mother’s voice, of her worry, of the uncertainty that still sits in the deepest, unspoken crevices of her mind, of her youngest, who doesn’t even have a college degree. What if it doesn’t work out?

It’s a question etched deep into Sooyoung’s mind as well. An aging group, three - some even four years - past debut, and their only win snatched in between juggernauts by a sliver, a stroke of luck.

And she knows how much rests on her and Jiwoo. How desperately the company is looking for a viral success. The Kwanghee, the Hani, to drag the group into the holy grail of public recognition.

Sooyoung cups a hand over the receiver, swallows down the blistering pill of duty, and whispers into the sun-streaked void of the early morning: “I got it, I - I’ll ask if I can get more jobs, okay?”

There’s a satisfaction to her mother’s tone as she hums. “Just do your best. That’s all I ask.”

Sooyoung brushes a finger over the window frame, watches the spiralling dust motes catch the orange light, and - inexplicably - thinks of Jinsol.

“I always do my best,” she says. “This is the only thing I can do.”

The door’s locked. Sooyoung presses on the handle, grunting as it stays firm. Really? _Really?_ She’s written her name clearly on the booking sheet, HA SOOYOUNG printed in black ink, her slot snatched from the snapping jowls of all the other girls, and yet -

Her fingers tighten over the handle when she sees Jinsol and Heejin practising together. They’re writing a song maybe; she doesn’t quite know. She’s lost track of what everyone else has been doing in between long nights in the training studios, filming for Fact in Star, and the various guest appearances that have her putting on a face that she doesn’t even recognise. And then she gets home, with enough energy to eat and shower before repeating this, week after week after week.

She doesn’t begrudge it - never would. But sometimes, in snippets of moments like this, when she sees the ease of the younger members around Jinsol, the way they coddle her like she’s not among the oldest members in the group, she wonders what it’d be like not to have to be the strong one. The reliable one. 

The ace. 

Jiwoo greets her with a curious quirk of her head when Sooyoung re-enters the dance studio.

“Forgot to write my name down,” she says, with a small smile. “And I thought I could help you with that step-turn again.”

She watches Jiwoo’s face crinkle into a grin and feels her heart sink low in her chest.

She looks up from her phone when she feels someone fall into the seat beside her, her stomach flipping when she realises that it’s Jinsol, hair mussed, an indent on her cheek like she had fallen asleep in the vocal training room after Heejin left.

She can’t help herself. “Jung Jinsol.”

The corners of Jinsol’s lips twitch. “Ha Sooyoung-ssi.”

The use of the honorific, teasing yet serious, is like a drawn line in the sand. It’s always been like this with her, Sooyoung thinks, her mouth pulling down into a frown; they can spend all their time teasing and laughing, but each time Sooyoung tries to take a step over the fine line between familiarity and intimacy, she finds herself falling, mouth to the dirt.

The silence yawns wide between them. 

“Looks like you had a long day,” she says, searching.

“I did,” Jinsol replies, absently. “Doesn’t help that I’ll have a long one tomorrow too.”

“What have you got?”

“Filming a vlog.”

Of course. Sooyoung tries to keep her expression neutral as she smiles. Tries not to think about how she has a packed day of interviews and filming ahead of her. Tries not to think about how she’ll crawl into bed, head pounding, watching Jinsol chat it up in front of a camera with Chaewon. 

But she - Sooyoung - _she’s_ the lucky one here. Isn’t she?

“You know I’m always here for you, right? Sometimes I think you forget, Sol-ah.” She reaches across the chasm again.

Jinsol’s eyes are closed, and she looks so peaceful that Sooyoung wonders if she imagined the hurt in Jinsol’s voice, the tinge of self-consciousness that makes everyone - including the maknaes - want to care for her. 

She wonders what would happen if she just reached over, pressed butterfly kisses on Jinsol’s forehead, the bridge of her nose, her shoulder. Would that anchor her to the ground? Or would Jinsol just float on further away from her, the way she just did one day and never returned?

The urge rears up in Sooyoung’s chest, so strong that she balls her fists and forces herself to turn away. Outside, yellow lights flash past as they speed through the tunnel, and Sooyoung counts the halcyon days leading up to her solo debut. Jinsol had welcomed her as easily as an old friend. Had given her advice as she prepared for her album in a matter of weeks.

And now -

She hears Jinsol move beside her. Their van exits the tunnel.

“Yeah,” Jinsol says finally, thin and raw and barely audible over the fresh roar of traffic. “I do.”

Sooyoung’s heart aches.

The manager leaves her in the studio with a selection of songs and instructions to choreograph something for the rest of the group to try. Another cover to fill the gaps in between comebacks.

Somewhere, in the rest of the building, the other members are going about their own business. Jungeun and Jiwoo playing with the harmony of their song for the twentieth time; Hyunjin and Yerim pinching snacks from the staff break room; Vivi-unnie with the vocal coach; and Jinsol…

She’s been filming vlogs again. Throwing herself into it as if it’s all she can do. Holds it between the both of them like a shield, impenetrable and inscrutable. 

Sooyoung turns the music up and lets it fill the room.

In the corner of her eye, she sees Jinsol enter the room, dart a wary glance at her, and Sooyoung drags her eyes away, fixes it on herself in the mirror, and through her peripheral vision, watches Jinsol dump her things on the table with a furrowed look on her brow. She doesn’t look like she wants to talk.

It takes two fumbled steps for Sooyoung to acknowledge that her concentration’s shot now, and she lowers the volume, only to look up and find Jinsol watching her, her expression blank. Impenetrable as always.

Her stomach flips. Smiling, she summons all her bravado to walk towards Jinsol. “Finally taking me up on my offer, Jung Jinsol?”

“Maybe.” A muscle twitches in Jinsol’s jaw.

Sooyoung casts her gaze around, the crack of silence between them broadening, and latches onto the first thing she sees. A keyboard. Hyejoo’s. Her eyes narrow. “That kid,” she says, feeling a low ember in her chest. “Always leaving the dirty work to her unnies.” _Tell me. Tell me you don’t mind. Tell me you hate it. Anything._

For a moment, she thinks Jinsol might speak; but instead, Jinsol stretches over the table, switches on the camera between them, and her stage voice comes up like a curtain. “I volunteered,” she says, a light lilt to her tone.

Sooyoung stares at Jinsol’s reflection in the glass door behind her. The light shines over them, and as Jinsol shifts, she seems to fade in and out of view. The light casts strange shadows over their faces, and Sooyoung wonders if she’s ever known her at all. 

“You shouldn’t have.”

“It’s fun.” Jinsol smiles to herself, like a private joke. “In a way.”

 _Is it really?_ Sooyoung wants to ask. _Do you enjoy this?_ What she says instead is: “Want anything from me?”

There’s a shadow over Jinsol’s face as she contemplates Sooyoung’s words, and Sooyoung wants to peel back the curtain, go backstage to see the mechanics of her brain working, all those unsaid thoughts that seem to swirl endlessly behind her eyes. 

I want _you_ , Sooyoung thinks. I want to know who you are. Tell me. Help me understand.

Jinsol drops her brush; it rolls and falls onto the floor. Jinsol shakes her head and says, again in that low voice, “No, thank you. You can keep practicing.”

“Yeah?” Sooyoung whispers, and bites her lip. And when she turns away, Sooyoung realises that there are no open doors here. Not now, and maybe not ever. Jinsol feels so far away that she might as well be in outer space. 

Jinsol sighs, small, and her eyes gleam like sinking ships. “Of course,” she says, and the words resound, a final echoing knell, taking Sooyoung's heart away with them.


End file.
